


Of blood and bones

by acheforhim (oaknshild)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hannibal is Hannibal, M/M, Occasional bad mouth, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Pregnancy, Surprising lack of cannibalism, Things might get ugly, kinda of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:38:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5763316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oaknshild/pseuds/acheforhim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will's made his choice, and they've fallen. Life cannot (and won't) be as it once was, and he's quite satisfied with that.<br/>Unless something makes him change his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of blood and bones

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This is the first fanfic I publish so I'm really nervous. Comments, suggestions and critics will be appreciated.
> 
> I must thank my awesome beta [sup3rnatural](http://sup3rnatural.tumblr.com/) for his support and friendship through all these years, the lovely [lnviernos](http://lnviernos.tumblr.com/) for her invaluable enthusiasm, great suggestions and company and the amazing [prmavera](http://prmavera.tumblr.com/), for her inspiration and immense support. You guys are absolutely the best :)

She feels a faint kick inside her. “Take it easy, sweetheart, we’re almost home”, she says and smiles, teary eyed, hands and eyes landing in the little swelling of her belly. Her waist is thinner that it should be; it hasn’t been easy to eat properly after… what happened. She sighs, when the image of her husband – not _dead_ , not _late_ – appears again, printed by pain and iron on her mind. She comes out from behind the steering wheel, and the baby – oh God, a baby – kicks again, and she smiles, suddenly so emotional, and dries the tears that start to path her cheeks. The dogs bark, happy to see her back – she knows Winston will only sniff her feet and wag his tail vaguely before going back to her room.

Wally hasn’t appeared yet, probably still sleeping. Kids with his age do hate Saturday mornings, and that she remembers pretty well. She lets a little smile touch her lips and opens the back door of her grey, common car to pick up her groceries.

That’s when she hears the clicks.

“What in the fucking hell you’re doing here, Freddie?” She doesn’t even need to turn around to know who she’s talking to – the way her stomach turns make it sure enough.

The little woman puts her camera down slowly, while a smug smile blossoms in her red painted lips. She's all scarlet, Molly notices: hair, lips, nails. Like an open wound. Maybe she smells like blood as well. “I’m just doing my job, Molly. I have cats to put through college.” Always the same smug, disdainful smile. Molly could slap her so hard she— “And, right now, you’re my goose of golden eggs. I’m sorry, Molly, I really am, but your husband and his _psychiatrist_ left me a good inheritance and I’m not gonna throw it away.”

Molly tilts her head, narrowing her eyes, snorting loudly at the malice in Freddie's innuendos, and takes some few angry steps towards her. She breathes slowly for a few moments and let her shop bags hit the ground, eyes meeting the other woman’s. “You’re not gonna drag me to do this again, Lounds, you’re not gonna drag _us_ again, not when we had moved half country away from all that shithole mess—”

“Wait a sec, Molly, what is _that_?” Freddie cuts her and lets her gaze settle in the defensive hand Molly has on her belly, her emphasis showing how excited the journalist is. Her eyes somehow get even bigger when she speaks again. “Don’t tell me that you’re… Oh shit. _Oh shit._ ” She moves her camera again, utterly unembarrassed by the obvious shot she’s about to take, when Molly slaps it to the ground. “Are you out of your mind, Lounds?” she growls, her hands already shaking. "You're not gonna make a profit at my expense nor at my son's. Get the fuck out of my house! _Now!_ ”

Freddie holds the black camera in the last moment.

“Oh, don’t be so aggressive, Graham. You know my followers love you, plus-”

“To hell you, your shitty tabloid and your shitty readers. I don’t care about any of this, but you will leave me and my son alone. You won’t get near Wally, me or even my dogs again. If I see you around once more-”

“What you’re gonna do, Graham?”, Freddie repeats the surname, and Molly can sense she wants to break her. She sighs, knowing that her pride will keep her eyes dry and her voice steady.

“If I see you around once more, Lounds”, she starts again, “Jack will hear of you.” Her heart is already racing in her chest but she keeps staring at the tiny, curly mess of red in front of her. The kicking thing moves inside her belly, movements as soft as a memory. It’s so fragile and pure, and the sight of Freddie at this moment enrages her even more.

“Jack is barely holding himself at the FBI, Graham, you should know that.” Her constant smile makes Molly ill.

“Obstruction of justice, Lounds, is crime, and I believe yours have not prescribed yet.” Molly smiles now, eyes sharp, a fiery glow in her gaze. “Crimes must be punished, Freddie, doesn’t matter who’s the big shot on the Bureau.”

Freddie frowns, arching an eyebrow.

Thank God she still remembered details of what Will had said to her about that audacious tabloid writer.

Will.

"Yeah, crimes must be punished", Freddie echoes her words, irony painting her expressions.

“Is everything okay, mom?”, Molly hears Wally as he walks to the front gate.

“It is, buddy, thank you. Just get inside with the dogs now, she’s already leaving.”

Freddie’s eyes wander over her for some uncomfortable moments, a mask of indifference covering her face, and Molly keeps staring straight at her.

“Very well, then”, she says, nearly bored, trying desperately to hold back her little defeat. “I’m leaving. Have a good day, Wally”, she screams over Molly, looking at the boy hoarding the dogs and making his way into the house. She turns her back to the blond woman and walks to her car, stopped nearby. Molly have already picked up her groceries and is going inside their home when she hears: “You should eat more and better, Molly. It won’t be good to the kid if mom starves.”

“Fuck you”, it’s all she says.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea to make this fic came up out of nowhere - I just thought "What if Molly was pregnant?" I tried then to answer myself this question and the others that came along with it and ended up sketching this. It might take some time until the next "chapter" is ready because I'm a slow writer. I'm also not sure if anyone will read it but I'll keep it going. :)
> 
> When Freddie says that thing about her cats, she's quoting (almost literally) Bianca del Rio.
> 
> English is not my first language, so my texts won't be free of mistakes. :)
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://acheforhim.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
